Into the void
by backlash84
Summary: My first fanfic, based around the captain of salvage ship and the Quarian female he rescues from inside it. Exploration and romance to ensue.
1. Chapter 1

The soft rush of the oxygen being sucked out of the air lock echoed in his head as the great, empty vastness of space opened up before them, two of his crew members standing beside him. The wreckage was fresh, that was for sure. He doubted they would need to worry about someone having already gone over the ship when the laser burns were still red hot all over the side of the hull, cutting the ship open like a tin can and spilling some of its guts into empty space. No shielding, that was for sure. That didn't bode well for their little scavenger hunt. "Harpoons ready? On my mark..." Greg tapped the side of their hull. "Fire!" There was the loud bang, partially muted by his helmet, and the harpoons shot out from the guns mounted to the outside of the airlock, sinking their teeth into the hull of the wreckage before them. "Clip and zip guys, no hot dogging it." He said, attaching his safety harness to the cable before taking a hold of it and starting to slowly pull himself across. Taking a deep breath his feet left the ground and he was floating in the void. He would never get used to that feeling... nothing pulling him down, nothing holding him still, just floating... Sure, the first time you experience zero G you have a blast. But after a few back flips and lifting creates and throwing them as if they were pillows it tended to lose its thrill and just become how close you are to the void... right now in was the relatively thin armour he wore, a dingy brown material that could stop small caliber bullets, but not much else... he was safe, sure... as safe as you could be, but he would never forget exactly how close he was to just floating away...

Soon enough he was on the other side of the harpoon, his feet planted against the hull, his magnetic boots attaching to the side and at least giving him a small sense of security. His crewmen were quick to follow, their heavy boots clunking to the side of the hull alongside him. "Alright, John, engine room, Sally, you can start in on the crew cabins. I am going to look over the deck and see what there is worth taking." Greg spoke into the com in his helmet, getting a nod from each of his partners. The ship was a patchwork, he guessed someone had picked it up as a fixer upper... done one hell of a job of it too. The welds were solid, seamless if not for the slightly different colouration, nothing a good paint job would not fix. Hey, with any luck there would be some good tools on board they could hock. It didn't take too long to reach the command deck of the was clear to Greg that this had been a pirating raid, it was messy... they had gone straight for the cargo bay, which was where some gems were sure to be missing, but there were still treasures aboard this hunk of metal. Element zero might still be contained within the engine room, and he doubted the pirates would have really searched all of the crew cabins. Greg had two jobs... see what was still running on the main computer, if it was working at all. And the more grizzly of the tasks... checking the bodies. Sure it was not glamorous, but there were plenty of credits to be snatched up if you were willing to get your hands dirty. He rationalized it of course, they were dead after all. It was not like they could use it, and he knew he sure could. He had people who relied on him, who counted on him for their next pay check, and he needed to keep them happy. Last thing he needed was to be stuck on his ship with a bunch of angry scavengers, eying his own ship and wondering how much they could salvage it for. Sure, they were loyal now... but he knew better then to test exactly how hungry they would get before they would start drawing lots for a new captain.

It did not take long to find the main cabin, a few minutes down some dark hallways and he had found his way to the door... the electric, fucking door... sealed, and without power, it was going to stay that way. It had obviously sealed to isolate the remaining power the ship had for life support, but that was long gone by now, now all it was good for was getting in his way. "Fuck..." Greg sighed, reaching for his tool belt. He was going to have to cut through it of course, which was not that big a deal... except it wasted his freaking time. He fired up the plasma cutter and started his cut at the top of the door. "There better be something good behind this freaking door... I am going to need to get wasted after this." He was going to need to focus on some kind of reward he was going to give himself after all this if he was not going to go out of his mind with boredom... inch by inch he slowly made his way through the metal to the other side of the door. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door broke free of its frame and floated before him, easily pushed aside to reveal a rather chilling sight. Life support had gone out a long time ago... and now all that was left was floating bodies. Hell if they had been there an hour earlier they might have had some survivors. He saw emergency oxygen tanks empty and floating amongst the corpses. Greg wasted no time starting to sort through the bodies, checking for anything of value. He got a few rings, a necklace floating through the air, and even a few guns. From the looks of them this was a crew for hire, bunch of rag tag do what you ask for money types. One of them didn't fit in though... a flash of purple that caught his eyes. That suit... he took a few steps over to the floating body. A female Quarian... now that was not something you saw every day. He could see bullet holes punched through her chest, a few blue drops of blood having escaped before the suit sealed itself. "Now now... don't you look expensive..." Greg said with a grin. He had never sold a Quarian suit before, but he had heard they could download and play video, music, had a complex life support system... he was sure it would fetch a nice sum to the right buyer... and more importantly, it was a QUARIAN! Its not like he was immune to their mystery. There was all sorts of talk about what was under that suit, but he had never seen or heard of a picture or video that had ever been taken of them, and now they regarded it as something so private that none would allow pictures of them to be taken. He didn't want to be disrespectful to their race of course... but he needed the cash, and as he had said before... its not like she was using the suit. Soon he came across a small problem however... where the hell was the seam? His hands traced the outside of the helmet, and he would be damned if he could find any kind of button or latch... All of a sudden her body flinched and Gregs hands shot away from their place on the back of her helmet and to the handgun. Did she really just move?... Had he just imagined it? I mean come on, she must have been floating here without air for at least an hour even with the emergency air tanks. Gregs hand slowly reached out, his finger tapping on the glass like he would a fish tank. "Are you alive in there?" He asked, knowing she could not hear him, their com systems were not in sync. The Quarians form slowly started to fold in on itself, as if trying to defend herself from whatever was bothering her drifting form. "No fucking way... Gordon! We got a fucking survivor! I'm coming in, have medical supplies ready for a Quarian!"

Greg was in shock, he just did what first came to mind, he put her in a firemans carry and started to walk her out of the ship as fast as he could with the magnetic boots, dragging his loot in the bag he had wrapped over his shoulder. "Hold on, I've got you..." He said, god... please hold on. He knew medical supplies were not cheap, and that this survivor would cost him quite a bit of money... but he was not so jaded as to let her die because he would profit from doing so, not yet anyways. He knew many in his line of work, along with some of his crew, would probably not like it. But hell, it was his damn ship, his fucking supplies, he would do whatever the hell he wanted with them. Luckily Quarians and Turians were similar enough, and he had a few of them on his crew, which means he had the medical supplies on hand already. On the down side, he had no clue if Merric, the ship medic, would have any idea of what to do to help this woman. He was a Turian, and had always done good work with people of his own race, as well as humans, but while working with Greg they had never come across an injured Quarian before. Gordon, his pilot, finally responded, his voice staticy, but calm over his head set. "Got it, things will be ready and waiting for you to drop her off when you get there." As Greg cleared the ship he realized he was going to have to carry her across the gap... through the void, one handed. "Oh fuck... fuck fuck fuck..." Greg whispered to himself. "What?" Gordon replied. "Nothing, nothing..." Greg liked to have both hands free, always one on the cable, the other reaching forwards, constant, steady movement, safe... he did not like trusting that little clip that held him, didn't trust it... He took a deep breath, reaching for his clip. The thing was old, but solid... at least that's what the man who he had bought it from assured him... But Greg didn't like putting his trust in anything, he liked control... and that's exactly what he was going to have to give up... As he secured himself to the cable he took a deep breath, wrapping his arm around the limp and probably lifeless Quarian, and took his first step out into the void.


	2. Chapter 2

He had not expected to hear the snap of his safety harnesses clip breaking as soon as he put any real resistance on the line. He felt his arm tug as his body drifted

forwards, the only thing keeping him in place was the vice like grip he had on the cable... if his hand were to slip he would just drift off... his life support would keep him

alive long enough to really appreciate the fact that he was going to die... and all for the sake of someone he didn't know... Greg liked to consider himself an honourable

person. Sure his line of work was in a grey area as far as morals went, but he was fair, paid his men fairly, worked hard, never ripped anyone off, never put his men at

more risk then he thought they could handle, and was always on the front lines with them if things got difficult. But he would be lying to himself if he didn't say that he

considered letting her go... letting her drift away, allowing him to save himself. None of his men could blame him, and she was probably dead already... but he knew he

could never live with himself were he to just let her go... she had every right to live he did, who was he to place his life above hers? He was just a step above the

average crook, she was just an innocent bystander who got caught up in something she could not control... he needed to save her. And so, gritting his teeth, he

tightened his grip on the unconscious Quarian, and loosened his grip on the cable, and started to slide himself along, inch by inch.

He had never been so aware of his heart beating in his entire life. "You're purple ass owes me a fucking drink if we live..." Greg muttered to himself. It was torture,

sliding across that wire, knowing that one slip was all it would take, and his life would be over. This was one of his greatest fears had always been that great, empty

darkness... and he was very aware of how close he was to falling off the edge into that abyss... and all he could think of was how if he ever met the man who sold him

this suit again, he was going to flush him out an airlock and smile as he watched him float away. Greg didn't know if it had been minutes, or hours, but soon enough he

felt his foot hit solid ground, the metallic click of his magnetic boots hitting the floor of the airlock. Greg let out a breath he had not known he had been holding as he

released the cable and placed his other boot firmly on the ground. "FUCK YEAH! Close the airlock! I am in!" He said, he knew his team would be working the leftovers of

the ship for another few hours, but he was done, no way was he going out there again with broken equipment. He had served his time. Artificial gravity kicked in soon

enough and then the hatch opened, allowing him inside, he had never felt so happy to feel the weight of something on his back as the Quarian settled over his

shoulder. Merric, a grizzled old Turian, with a dark brown complexion and a voice that sounded like rocks being ground together. "Put her on the table, we don't have a

lot of time by the looks of her." He said, to which Greg nodded. He placed her on the hospital bed he had bought second hand off of earth, letting the doctor get to

work. The two things Greg refused to skimp on was food, and medical supplies. Sure his ship was a bit of a junker, in constant need of some kind of repair, but it was

his, and it got the job done. It also had a happy, healthy crew. The doctor didn't waste his time, grabbing a case of medi-gel and attaching a thin hose to the injection

port, attaching the other end to a similar port in her suit. "Quarians may have a very weak immune system, but they can take a punch...and even though this was one

hell of a punch, her suit seems to have really contained the damage. Minimal blood lose considering her wounds, and minimal infection... I would say with this kind of

damage... she has a fair shot."

As the doc spoke Greg started to remove the heavy gear that had been so weightless just a few moments ago. First the belt, then the helmet, allowing him to finally

take a breath without it ringing in his ears. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, cut rather short, just long enough that his bangs came to rest above his

eyebrows. He had a strong build, something he had worked up stacking creates, trying to make an "honest" living. He had learned quickly enough that hard work just

didn't pay the bills like people had always told him it would. Greg was smart, he had always been smart, but he had not exactly had the best education money could

buy. He could have been a lot of things with the right start, but not everyone had those same opportunities. Greg had been forced to take... less conventional route to

success. One of the reasons Greg was so good at his job was a very simple personality trait he had, he was not greedy. As long as he had enough to keep his crew

happy and well fed, he was happy. Sure he could have taken a few more risks, maybe even have a nice ship he could be proud to show off, but then again he could

also have ended up dead in the ground, like many scavengers before him. As he eased off the rest of the space suit he took a seat on one of the chairs, watching the

doctor work as he attached monitoring equipment to their new patients suit. "She's got a gun on the side of her hip, mind passing me it? Last thing we need is for her

to wake up in a strange place and for her to start shooting first and asking questions later." He said, the doctor nodded, handing Greg the gun, a rather old issue

revolver. "Damn, this thing looks old..." Part of him wondering what a piece like this would be worth on the open market before sliding it into his pocket. "Well, looks like

she is in good hands. Tell you what. I am going to get some cuffs, just so we can make sure she does not leave the bed and go wondering off, and I'll leave the rest to

you." Greg said, to which the doctor nodded. After a quick trip to the arms lockup to get a pair of cuffs, attaching their new guest by one of her slender wrists to the

metal bedside table, it was time to head off to the dining hall to get that drink he had earned, and maybe play a little poker with the guys. With any luck he would win

enough money to pay for all the medi-gel their new house guest was currently using.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, at least he had accomplished one thing, after a few shots of vodka over the span of their poker game Greg had both emptied his bottle and his wallet. Tonight

had not been his night, and he had lost a small chunk of his earnings from their previous job, nothing major, but enough that he spent the rest of the evening thinking

of all the things he could have bought with those credits. After a few hours it was time for bed, his crew still taking shifts stripping anything of value off of the Quarian

ship. It looked like a fairly good haul, and Greg was sure by the end of their picking things over there would be little left, if anything of value. He would give the

coordinates of the metal husk to a scraper who would pay him a nice finders fee for the privilege. When Greg fell asleep that night he felt comfortable in knowing that

although it had been a rough start, at the end of the day they were going to come out of this with at least some extra cash to throw around.

After a few hours rest there came a crashing sound from down the hall, and it didn't take a genius to figure out their guest had woken up. "Please... don't fucking break

anything." Greg said to himself, stepping out of bed and pulling on his pants quickly before heading towards the noise. When he opened the door he was greeted by

one hell of a mess, her one wrist attached to the bedside table their little Quarian had seen fit to get out of bed and knock it over, dragging it to the corner of the room

with her, breaking a lamp in the progress. "Fuck... my lamp..." Greg said, sighing, he could never have nice things... However disappointment soon turned into caution

as he took note of what their passenger was holding. In her three fingered hand... apparently their patient held a scalpel. He saw her head turn up towards him,

raising her newly found weapon to point it at him. "Stay back!" She warned, it was clear she was not completely healed, her body weak from blood lose. Greg slowly

put his hands up, his voice calm and even. "Alright, take it easy... no need to point that knife at me, I'm not going to hurt you..." Greg side stepped slowly, getting a

little closer to her, but then stopped, meeting her gaze. "Listen, you are confused. I am the one who helped you..." She shook her head. "Helped yourself to my gun!

Where is it? I want it back!" She said, she was a little wobbly on her feet, but she managed to keep her footing. "I just didn't want you to hurt anyone... its in my room,

and I can give it back to you once we have sorted all this out... but put the knife down first, no need to get violent, I'm not wanting to hurt you..." He took one hesitant

step forwards. "Stop! You think I am stupid? I know what this is, some kind of salvage vessel, picking at the bones of wrecks, my wreck! What do you think you are

going to do, sell me?" She said, Greg didn't need to see her face to know she was panicking, fuck, this was not going well. "I won't let you! You're not going to take

me..." Then, in a rather odd move, she placed the knife to her own throat. "I won't let you take me alive..." She had clearly heard stories of what could happen to a

young woman picked up by bandits, and she would rather die by her own hand then be used as some slavers play thing. "Wow!" Greg stepped back, he had not

expected that. "Stop! What do you want? My gun? I'll give you my gun, ok?" He said, probably not the smartest move, but he needed her to feel safe, like she had

control. She was clearly on the edge, and he couldn't let her take her own life over something so stupid as a misunderstanding. The Quarian seemed confused for a

moment, pausing before she slowly lowered the knife, nodding as if it had been her own idea. "Yes, your gun! Hand it over!" She said, waving the scalpel at him as if to

back up her statement. "Alright, I'm going to reach for it nice, and slow. My finger is not going on the trigger..." He said, awkwardly reaching into his hip holster with his

fingers outstretched, gently placing the weapon on the ground before kicking it over to her. She basically dived for the weapon, almost falling over her own feet, still

dizzy from blood lose. Greg wanted this handled before anyone else came by, this situation would not get better by making her feel cornered. "Alright, now you have

the gun... can we talk now?..." He asked, she seemed to pause for a moment, considering her options before she nodded. "Wait... you are that bosh'tet who tapped on

my visor! Do I look like a fish to you?" She asked, clearly highly insulted. Greg couldn't help but smile, even in this situation, he could not help but find her reaction

funny. "Sorry, i didn't think you were even alive, I was just checking..." He could almost feel her rolling her eyes. "You don't know how to check life support on a

bio-suit? Are you fucking kidding me? That's one of the most basic, universal technologies! What have I been kidnapped by, Krogan?" Greg smiled, at least she didn't

seem too mad... a little annoyed yes, but under the circumstances, he couldn't really blame her. "I am not exactly a tech pro, guilty. But you've got to give me credit for

hauling you out of that death trap you were neck deep in." He said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Through zero G! Oh big man took a little space walk, I can

only imagine how difficult that was for you" She said, sighing softly. She lowered his gun, slowly. "But I guess I owe you one... after I get my ship back in working order

I'll get you a drink or something..." Greg sighed, this was not a conversation he was looking forward to having...

"About that..." Before he could even start to explain she had raised her... well, his gun. She leveled it at his head. "You are NOT taking my ship!" She said. "I know! I

know! Look.. its not that I am going to steal your ship, its just the damage... listen I might not know tech, but I know a wreck when I see one... that baby ain't going

anywhere. The cost to fix it would be more then it would be worth... the scrap you get off it however, that can at least make you back some of what you've lost. Its a

shame this kind of shit happens, and you got fucked over... but on the bright side you've got enough scrap to make a nice little profit, I'll harvest everything I can off

that ship, sell it for you, and only charge you labour costs. Its a better deal then you would get from anyone else, and at least you can come out of this with some of

what you have lost." She looked at him, and he could almost tell that her mouth was hanging open, she leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down till she was sitting,

hands on her lap. "All that work... I spent years buying parts to fix her up, got her running smoothly... I didn't even think about shields, I mean it was meant to be a

passenger ship, its never supposed to see combat! That one ship could have been a home to hundreds of my people... a perfect gift for my pilgrimage." She put the

gun down, aggravated and defeated. "So many hours work... countless days on end... all for nothing." She sighed. Greg could not help but feel sorry for her, she had

worked so hard... he could tell by her voice she was crushed. She had put her heart and soul into that ship, and in a moment it had all slipped between her fingers.

Greg walked over, taking a seat beside her. "Yeah... I've had a few run ins with bandits myself. Fucking bastards that they are... almost ripped this very ship in two,

trying to take my salvage. We managed to outrun them though, cost me a damn fortune to fix her up again." He said, gently stroking the side of the ship. He knew

what it was like to grow attached to something you worked for, he would be pretty pissed if they ever managed to take his ship from him. She didn't say a word, still in

shock from all that had happened oh so quickly. "Listen... I know its not much... but if you wanted, I have a few connections, I could try and get you a job...You seem to

be good with ships if you really fixed up that ship. I am sure I could find a place that would pay quite a bit for your services, you could save up and buy yourself a ship

that you can be proud to bring back to your people." He said. She turned her head, looking over at him. "Working... on a ship like this?" She asked. "I mean, I am

greatful, but your line of work is kind of... shady, no offense meant... its just I am not sure if its something I could do." She said, slightly nervous, not wanting to offend

him. "True, its not for everyone. I'll take a look, see if I can get you a job thats... a little more your style. Something a little more... legal." He said. She looked up at him,

searching his deep brown eyes as if to try a find a trick or a lie within his words. "I would be... very greatful for any help you could give me." She said, he could hear her

voice lighten a little bit, she had some hope... even if it was just a little. And Greg was glad to see it. "Good, well, we have about a day left to search over your ship for

useful parts to sell, and then we will be making a trip to the Stegmara Markets to get you whatever we can off the salvage." He said, he could feel her tense slightly.

Apparently she had heard of the markets. "Don't worry... yeah the place can be a little dangerous, if you are dumb enough to go unarmed or alone. But my crew deals

there all the time, we have a reputation, people know that we don't cause trouble... well, we don't start it anyways." He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Listen,

you stay close to me, and I swear, no one will even look at you funny." He said, giving her his best confident smile. She seemed to buy it, although her helmet was

blocking his view. "Alright... so, I guess that means I'll be sleeping here?" She asked. "Yeah, you are still weak, and personally I would rather you hooked up to the

machines until we know for sure you are all better." Greg helped her stand, leading her back to her bed. "We had you on a vitamin drip to keep you sustained, we can

pick up some food for you once we reach the markets, until then there is a water purifier in the cabinet over there that should be able to hook up to your suit, just take

some water from the tap over there and run it through, just in case. Can't have you getting sick while you recover." She took a seat on the corner of the hospital bed,

nodding. "Well, I will see you in the morning." He said, giving her one last comforting smile. As he turned to leave he heard her speak, her voice soft, almost too soft to

hear. "Thank you... captain..." She said, Greg smiled. "Anytime... and you can buy me that drink when we get to the markets." He said, leaving her to rest, returning to

his room to get some well earned sleep. It had been one hell of a day, and although they were not getting paid as much as he would have liked, they were going to

make some cash off this job, enough to keep them going until they found another. All in all, life was pretty good.


	4. Chapter 4

All in all he knew he probably shouldn't have thought things would go smoothly... sure, at first things were fine, he had a nice breakfast, relaxing morning as they

drifted through space towards the markets... for a moment he though the day wouldn't involve a fist fight. But shouts from the engine room broke that little dream into

millions of pieces in an instant... sometimes he wondered what he could have done in a past life to deserve never having a nice, quiet day... As he walked in through

the door it became apparent that their little ship guest had woken up and felt good enough to be walking around, however, she had ran into Guss, the ships 'repair

man'. Greg always used that term loosely. Mainly Guss was good for figuring out the prices of a few parts they could strip off a ship, didn't know that much about

putting them together, but enough that they could usually drift into a repair shop before anything too serious happened. He was a bit stringy, bald as a pool ball, and

had a face wrinkled from years of smoking, which had also turned his teeth a unpleasant shade of yellow. "I was just taking a look! Besides, look at this mess. There

would be nothing worth stealing in the first place!" The Quarian said, clearly annoyed. Before Guss could reply Greg spoke up, making his presence known. "Hold it!

What the hells going on?" He said, his voice clearly annoyed that someone was disrupting his rather peaceful day. "Sir, this bucket head was groping the engine with

its thick fingers." He said, acting as if he were just reporting facts instead of insulting the young Quarian, who now had her fists balled up at her sides, clearly angry,

but holding back her rage for the moment. "I was just taking a look... honestly, this place is a bit of a dump... its just... not effective." She said, annoyed by the fact that

someone could take such poor care of this ship. "If this shaved ape had any clue what he was doing in the first place I would not have been looking around. Quite

frankly, I was kind of amazed this heap is still in one piece. Do you realize how long its been since you have had this thing calibrated?" Guss clearly didn't appreciate

the comment, his hands also balled up at his sides, however instead of holding back his rage he swung, hitting the young woman in the gut. She was clearly taken by

surprise, not even able to block, a choked grunt echoing in the cramped room.

Being an annoying dick was one thing, he could make excuses for Guss and apologize on his behalf later, but hitting a woman... Greg didn't even think, he just tackled

Guss right against the wall, hearing the man shout at Greg, turning and giving him a punch across the jaw. "Get the fuck off me!" Guss groaned, pushing Greg back.

The young Quarian didn't take kindly to her defender being punched in the face, and put the man in a headlock... not just a headlock, but a sleeper hold! Greg was

surprised for a moment as she pulled the man back, putting pressure on his neck as he tried to kick back at her. "No you fucking don't..." She said, twisting so that the

man was forced onto his stomach, twitching before passing out. "Stupid bosh'tet..." She groaned, she was not completely healed yet, and the punch had clearly hurt.

Greg was frankly impressed she could move, he guessed the doc had been right about her race being tough. "Well damn... remind me never to fuck with you." Greg

said, smiling at her. "Can you hold him while I get some rope..." Since she had broken his cuffs. which now that he thought about it he bought from the same guy he

got his crappy space suit from... he needed to be more careful with who he bought from. He returned with some rope, tying up Guss, who seemed very still. "You sure

he's... you know... alive?" He asked. "Oh, don't worry, he is breathing. This is not the first time I've needed to handle a racist who got out of hand." She said, he could

tell by her voice she was smiling. "He's still breathing, faintly. He'll come back around soon enough." She said, watching as Greg tired the mans legs together. "Thanks...

for stepping in there." She said. Greg smiled at her. "No problem, he needed to be put in his place. No one on my crew should talk to a woman like that." He said,

finishing up his rope work he tested a few of the knots. "Hey... I never did get your name." Greg said, taking a seat against the wall to take a breath. "Oh, My name is

Tea'zeta nar Rizix... Tea for short." She said, knowing sometimes humans had problems with Quarian names. "Well Tea, my apologies on behalf of Guss here, he will be

off my ship as soon as we get to the markets. Can't have someone like him around, way too risky... which, now that I think of it, leaves a job open..." He said, looking

at her. "I mean, as you said... this place is a mess..." He said, before she could refuse. "Not as a salvage worker of course, just repairs and upkeep. You'd never have

to leave the ship if you didn't want to. You would just do work like any other mechanic, nothing shady... the same kind of honest work you would do if you set up shop

anywhere else, except I pay better." He said, hoping to tempt her. She paused for a moment. "Well... maybe... aren't you worried I'll steal something?" She asked,

quite a few races didn't trust her kind, since they tended to float around, doing whatever work they could do to get by till they finished their pilgrimage. "Why would I

worry about that? I am a good judge of character... I knew Guss was a jerk when I hired him, but he was a jerk who usually kept to himself and didn't have a problem

working for me. You however seem to know what you are doing far better then him. This place could use some work, and from what I saw of your old ship, you could

get this place running smoothly." He paused to give her a minute to think about it. She seemed to consider his offer for a moment, she did need the money... "Well, I

can't promise anything... but I can give it a try." She said, still a little unsure of the offer. What she would be doing would still be considered illegal, helping this man...

but he didn't seem like a bad man, he had saved her, defended her... and now he was offering her a job she could really use. "That sounds good to me. Welcome

aboard." He said, reaching out to shake her hand. She did so, a bit awkwardly, not having done it before, but having observed the custom before. "Whats the name of

this ship by the way? I didn't see a title on the side." Ship names were very important to her people, you were meant to have pride for your vessel, to feel a part of

something bigger then yourself. "Yeah, I keep the name off the side. You are now one of the proud few to serve on the Tabula Rasa, meaning blank slate. You come

here, its a fresh start. Just what you need I think." He said, smiling. Fresh start... that sounded good to her. "Well, I get the feeling it will be a pleasure to work with

you." She said, her mood lightened by the prospect of earning a little money for her pilgrimage. Maybe she could turn things around after all. A sound came from

outside the ship. "Seems we are docking, you ready to get your first look at the Stegmara markets?" He asked, she nodded, all of a sudden excited to see these

markets. She felt safer knowing she would be with a group, and that Greg would be watching her back. He had not met many honourable humans, but it seemed there

was a first time for everything. With that they left Guss to regain consciousness alone in the hot engine room, heading towards the air locks, and the Stegmara

Markets.


End file.
